Prophecy delayed
by darkmoore05
Summary: When an old book is removed from the restricted section, Harry once again finds himself forced to fulfil duties he never asked for. And it might not be Voldemort who will ruin his life…
1. The book

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them. The Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K.Rowling, Methos and the Highlander Universe belong to Panzer/Davis. No money made, I do this just for fun.

Thanks to: My wonderful beta Cassandra Pierson. You're awesome! Without your encouragement and patience, this story wouldn't exist at all.

And to Deep Emerald, who's opinion helped a great deal to improve my work. Thanks a lot.

All still existing mistakes in here are mine, and mine alone. If you find one, you can keep it.

Chapter 1: The book 

"I don't know if this is such a good idea, Sibyll." Minerva McGonagall gave Divination teacher Sibyll Trelawney a worried look. "We have never before moved a book out of the restricted section. There are reasons why this book was stored there."

It was the last meeting before the term was to begin the day after tomorrow, and all the staff had gathered for one last discussion, before the castle was to be once again overrun by students.

"I know that there were reasons, but things have changed. The reason why this book was relegated to the restricted section was a prophecy that - if it had come true - could have caused some damage. But this did not happen. If it had been authentic, the prophecy would have been fulfilled over 95 years ago. This is just a book about a Muggle fairytale. It could be used as an example of imaginative faculty, but I really doubt that there is any _real_ fortune-telling in it." Professor Trelawney sounded as theatrical as ever.

Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, sighed in annoyance. He still had much work to do before classes began and this meeting was taking away precious time from his lesson plans.

_Sure, and your prophecies do always come true, don't they?_ Snape thought sarcastically. _Why in Merlin's name do we have to waste our time like this?_ Aloud he said, "I don't see that it will harm anybody to read a book about a Muggle fairytale. And if this prophecy was not fulfilled by the right time it probably never will. So we are talking about fiction, right? Let's give in Sibyll's wish and get over with this."

"I think Severus is right." Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, agreed. He wanted to end this discussion before someone could get really impatient. So he turned to Professor Trelawney and said, "Sibyll, you have permission to remove the book from the restricted area. If that's all for today…" He waited a few seconds for someone to speak up and then dismissed them with the words, "Thank you for coming and see you all tomorrow."

ooOoo

The restless feeling inside his belly grew with every mile they came closer to Hogwarts. Harry sat in the compartment of Hogwarts Express right beside Hermione and twisted his wand around his fingers over and over again. After a few more minutes, Hermione reached out, caught his hand with hers and steadied his movements. "Harry, love, _please_ stop it. It drives me nuts. I am trying to read this really interesting book."

Ron, who sat across these two, could not help but smile. He knew Harry had asked Hermione not to call him 'love' in front of any other students since this new kind of relationship they shared was _private_ and he wanted to keep it as _private _as possible. The second thing he was smiling about was that, since the first day he had met Hermione - six years ago - there had always been a 'really interesting book'. _I guess, some things will never change,_ he mused.

And last but not least, a phrase like 'It drives me nuts' would have _never ever_ left Hermione's lips if it had not been for the last two weeks. It would have sounded more like 'It is annoying me'. But since Hermione, Harry and Ron had spent some time in New York, staying with Amber, a vivid young Muggle-born witch, 'Mione's speaking habits had changed a little bit. On the other hand – a lot of things had changed over the last few weeks.

It had really not been a surprise to Ron, that Harry and Hermione eventually had discovered their feelings for each other, in fact he had wondered if these two were just denying the obvious attraction or if they were _really _that blind.

But whatever it had been, they finally got over it on a one week camping tour, sponsored by Hermione's parents. Now that 'Mione and Ron had turned seventeen, - legally adults in the wizarding world - and Harry's birthday was not so far away, they were allowed to go on that trip.

Then, one week later, when they got back to Hermione's house, a letter had been waiting for Harry and that _had _been a surprise.

A young witch – who turned out to be a former Hogwarts student – had offered a 'study-trip' to New York and Dumbledore's permission had been enclosed. First, they had thought the Hogwarts headmaster had planned this to get them out of some danger, but it had turned out to be Sirius' birthday present for Harry.

The following weeks had been pure fun, not only because life in New York was so totally different to life in Britain or - even more - wizarding life, but because it was the first time the three of them spent so much time together in the holidays, out of need or of being in danger.

It had been the best thing, Ron had ever experienced.

ooOoo

The feeling still grew and Harry tried to convince himself it was only because this was going to be his last year at Hogwarts and because the things between him and 'Mione had changed. It was _not _because of some strange kind of foreboding or some mysterious opponent rising. The war against Voldemort was already _much _to private for his taste and they really didn't need another one.

Eventually, Hermione closed her book and looked at her boyfriend: "Ok, Harry, what is it? What is bothering you? And don't tell me 'nothing' 'cause I know you better than that." Harry sighed. "I don't know." he answered. It was no lie, he really _didn't _know what was wrong with him. "Maybe it's just my nerves," he stated lamely.

"_Your nerves?_" Hermione gave him her 'you must be kidding me' look and said, "Harry you know as good as I do, it is _never_ just your nerves. So _tell me_!"

Harry looked at her and as he saw the worry in her face he suddenly felt warm inside. He had seen this look upon her face a thousand times, but this was the first time, it meant more to him. This time her face was the face of the person he truly loved.

"I really don't know, 'Mione. I'm serious. I just feel a little bit - restless." He glanced outside if someone could see them and then placed a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. "Don't worry, love, I will be alright."

Ron smiled a little smile from across them. This was going to be an interesting year.

ooOoo

Professor Adam Priscus sighed and put away the letter he just had received. He knew this had to come. This was the only reason, why he had applied for the job as 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' instructor, three years ago. Now the time had come for young Mr. Potter to fulfil his duties. And Adam really hoped, things would be different this time.

Unfortunately there seemed to be difficulties again. First of all: the incident with the book should not have happened. It had been safe in the restricted section. Adam did not have a clue why, in Merlin's name, Sibyll had such interest in removing it right _now. _The book should have stayed where it was, but he had not dared to ask for it – because there was no way to explain _why_ it should not be removed. Albus would have been suspicious – and the last thing Adam wanted to happen was that the headmaster found out the real reason, why he stayed at Hogwarts.

Second problem was, that it was only a matter of time until Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger – who had, besides her intelligence, grown to be an amazingly beautiful young witch – would discover the true nature of their feelings for each other. Maybe it had already happened. A distraction like that could cause really big problems.

Which led to the last problem, maybe the worst of all: The only person, who possibly could reveal the true meaning of this book, would be the same person, who was closest to one of the 'main-characters'. And when _this _happened, it would cause Professor Priscus more than only one bad headache and could endanger the whole mission.

ooOoo

The Hogwarts Express had arrived at the station and the train emptied. When Ron had left their compartment and Hermione was about to follow him, Harry grabbed her arm from behind. "'Mione, wait," he said.

She turned around and looked him in the eyes. "What is it, Harry?" she asked.

"Nothing, ….I just…" he lowered his eyes to the floor "… I just wanted a few last seconds alone with you," he whispered.

"Hey, it's not like we're not going to see each other any more." She joked, trying her best to make him smile.

"I know!" he said in return, quickly making sure there was really no-one around. Then he touched her hips, softly pulled her close and murmured to her lips: "But I am definitely going to miss this…" before finally kissing her parting lips.

Hermione ended the kiss much too early for Harry's taste, stating: "So will I, love, but I am afraid we will have to go now, or we will be late. And I am not quite sure we should start our last year like this." She smiled that special little smile for him, her eyes telling what her mouth did not say. Then she grabbed her trunk, turned around and headed for the door.

Harry watched her for a few seconds, mentally preparing for what had to come. This was their last year at Hogwarts and all of their classmates knew them well. They would find out, sooner or later. He didn't like that thought. It was not because he was ashamed of what he felt for 'Mione, it was because he wanted her for himself. Wanted her to be the only one to know the meaning of a look or a touch. Wanted to protect her from the defamation, that, he was pretty sure, she would have to face. He could imagine what they would say, about the Mudblood finally getting her hands on the "famous" Harry Potter.

He sighed. In fact, over the years there actually_ had _been girls, who had not wanted _him_, but 'the boy, who lived'. It had been annoying and distressing. And Harry was pretty sure, that it eventually had caused him to deny that he had fallen for Hermione. But deep inside, some part of him had always known, that at some time over the past two years, their friendship had changed into something else. Something he refused to name. Something he was almost sure, Hermione was feeling as well.

Time had shown that he had been right.

ooOoo

A short time later, Harry, Ron and Hermione had finally managed to find some seats where they could sit together at the Gryffindor table. The Great hall was decorated as beautiful as always at the start-of-term feast and soon the sorting hat would begin his work.

Professor Priscus entered the Great hall and took his seat at the staff table. He looked over to the Gryffindor table searching for Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger. He knew that things had changed, the second he saw them. Though this scene might look pretty normal to the others, Adam could see the subtle change in their body language. Every look, smile, touch seemed to scream 'I care'.

Well, that could make things difficult. Emotions tended to mess things up most of the time. But complaining would not help. It never did. He would have to deal with the consequences of this twist of fate. Adam sighed and took a closer look at these two. Potter had changed. Of course Professor Priscus had watched him changing a lot over the last few years, the 'Potter-boy' turning into a young man. A handsome man. One of those people moving with naturally grace, and that kind of personality most people used to call 'charismatic'. For Adam it had only been a matter of time until his body would catch up with his already adult mind. Going through things like the ones Mr. Potter went through, would do that to you.

Though this was not the kind of change that had happened now. But yet, it was a physical one. This young man was not wearing his glasses. Which only seemed to brighten the shining of these amazingly huge, green eyes. Those _knowing _eyes, now holding so much love for the person in front of him. No wonder Ms. Granger had finally fallen for him. He looked gorgeous. His hair had grown a little longer, but was still as unruly as ever. And since he had not stayed with the Dursleys he had not lost weight. He was _perfect._ As perfect as he could be expected to be with his DNA.

Ileanna would like that.

ooOoo

It was the end of the feast and the food had disappeared again. The new Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were obviously excited and nervous at the same time and the great hall was humming from the noise of cheerful chatting students. Hermione was listening to Neville Longbottom, who was sitting at the opposite site of the table and was excitedly chatting about the job he had been offered. He was about to work at the Ministry as a specialist for herbology after finishing school.

Hermione was so glad everything had turned out to be so good for him. It had taken almost until the middle of the sixth year until Neville had lost his clumsiness and had gained some self-confidence. He was then doing much better at potions and Professor Sprout used to call him 'brilliant' at herbology. Hermione guessed she had told the Ministry about her excellent student. And Neville deserved that big chance.

She looked at Harry, who was sitting beside her. He had been unusually silent the whole evening. Something was still bothering him, but this was definitely not the right moment to talk about it.

Beside her, Harry was brooding. He had felt Professor Priscus' eyes on him, since the teacher had entered the room. It was almost like the other man tried to pierce him with his glare. That was surprising, because normally Harry felt quite comfortable in his Professor's company. He was an creative teacher, strict but fair. The youngest member of the Hogwarts staff. His smile was sympathetic and Harry had never felt charged by him, until now. It was slightly disturbing.

A few minutes later - Hermione was thinking about her own plans for the future - Harry grabbed her hand and tried to get her attention.

"He knows." Harry said worryingly. Hermione gave him a puzzled look. "Who _knows _what? What are you talking about, Harry?" She looked around hastily, but could sense nothing special. Ron, who sat next to Harry was talking to someone about the Quidditch Championship, turning his back at them, and most of the others around them were paying no attention to them either.

"Professor Priscus." Harry explained and shot a quick look to the staff table. "He was watching us. He knows about us. I can see it. And something tells me, he doesn't like it the slightest bit."

Hermione's face showed disbelieve and worry. "Oh, c'mon, Harry. You are hallucinating. He has watched almost everyone during this evening. Why should he not, he is a teacher, they use to do this, you know? Even Snape was watching us. And he doesn't even _like _you. Why should Professor Priscus be interested in our relationship?" she whispered.

Harry knew this had to sound strange in Hermione's ears. It even sounded strange to himself. And he did not have an answer to her questions. All he knew was, that he had literally _felt_ the Professors look on him. This was not his imagination. They had been watched.

"I don't know why he has been watching us - all I know is that I am not hallucinating." Harry replied. He would have liked to tell her that this look had made this feeling in his tummy worse, but he did not dare. He knew Hermione would worry about him even more. Instead he forced himself to smile a little. "I'm sorry if I confused you. I guess I was just … being overprotective. I don't want to get you hurt."

The impression on Hermione's face changed, it turned from worried to soft and reassuring. "Thank you, lo…Harry. But there is nothing you have to protect me from. We will handle everything that might come. Don't worry any more." She smiled back at him and rose. "Let's go upstairs. We need the new password and should unpack our trunks. We can meet with Ron at the common room afterwards, ok?"

Harry sighed and rose too. Ron, who had heard her last words turned around and grinned knowingly at him. And Harry still felt Professor Priscus' eyes at him, as he left the great hall and followed Hermione to the Gryffindor tower.


	2. Discoveries

Chapter 2: Discoveries 

The first few weeks of the new term were passing rather fast. Snape tortured them with the most ugly smelling potions, Professor Priscus had – in consideration of the still progressing war – doubled their pensum of complicated defence spells and they still failed to see _anything _at the Divination classes.

It was the fifth week and still they had managed to keep their relationship a secret. Or so they thought...

Hermione, Harry and Ron were at the library, learning for an difficult Arithmancy-test they had to do the following day. Hermione was searching for a special Arithmancy book which contained some helpful explanations about the examples they were working on, while Harry and Ron were sitting at one of the tables, brooding about their scrolls.

She moved over to a another bookshelf, practised fingers sliding along the spines of the books, like she had done it a thousand times before. She knew this library like the back of her hand. So she was even more surprised, when she caught a glimpse at a book she had never seen before. Excited she took it down to have a closer look at it.

It was old. Well, most of the books in this library were old, but this one was _really _old. It seemed to be enchanted, to prevent from damage by simply using it. Silver letters on the dark brown leather binding said: "Atlantis – a wizarding point of view" which draw a puzzled look on Hermione's face. _A Muggle myth discussed in the wizarding world? How weird. But then again ... wizards had always been curious about Muggle-habits. So why not write a book about a Muggle myth? _

She decided to read it after finishing her studies, grabbed the book she had come for and returned to Ron and Harry. Ron looked up, as she sat down again beside Harry. "What kept you?" he asked. Normally it took 'Mione only seconds to come back.

"Found a book I've never seen before," she answered. "Here!" she placed it in the middle of the table, right in front of him.

"Atlantis?" Ron sounded confused. "Never heard of that before. What is it? A person? A place? A planet? A game?"

Hermione rolled her eyes about Ron's ignorance and explained: "It is a legend. A myth. It is supposed to be the most advanced and wealthy community that ever existed. But no-one knows where it was. It ...disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Ron asked.

"Yes, disappeared. 'In a single day and night of misfortune, the island of Atlantis disappeared into the depths of the sea.' Plato wrote, at about 360 B.C. And he didn't even see it with his own eyes. He only heard about it, 'cause even at this time it had happened long ago."

"Er.....and who is Plato?" At Ron's question Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, ... and Harry tried his best not to laugh too loud.

Professor Snape eyed the potion Mr. Longbottom had made, suspiciously. It had indeed the right colour and he had to admit that Mr. Longbottom was doing quite good at his lessons the last time. "Well Mr. Longbottom, seems like you have finally learned something." He snarled, turning around with blowing robes.

He walked through the classroom , stopping at Draco Malfoy's cauldron and bringing a satisfied smile to the student's face by saying, "Well done, Mr. Malfoy, five points to Slytherin." Then he turned around again, checking on some other students before finally facing Harry Potter.

"Mr. Potter, "he started, "I am relieved that you seem to have gotten this right. So at least I won't have to worry that Dumbledore's 'golden boy' will poison himself in the war against the Dark Lord. There are far too many chances to mess things up." He wanted to go on but Harry chose this moment to raise his chin and look at his teacher.

Snape was taken aback by the look in these amazingly huge, green eyes. Well, he had realized before, that Potter wasn't wearing his glasses but he never had taken a closer look until now. It was like the glasses had shielded what these eyes were truly holding. Like the glasses had prevented to see the depths, but now they were gone. And Snape had to admit, that it slightly scared him, what he saw in this emerald eyes. Knowledge. Burden. Tolerance. The Gryffindor courage. Wisdom way above his years. A glimpse at overwhelming sadness.

Eyes too old for such a young face.

The moment passed and Snape managed to steady himself. "Class dismissed, "he said hastily, watching the students clean their cauldrons and leave the room. Leaving him alone with his thoughts. _When had it happened? When had he changed like that? When had he matured like that? When had the 'Potter boy' turned into a grown man? Had he actually ever been a child? Probably not._

For the first time in all these years Severus felt truly _sorry_ for this young Gryffindor.

Hermione settled herself comfortably on her bed. She was alone in the room, enjoying the much needed silence. It had been a hard day, the Arithmancy-test had been difficult and Professor Priscus had been inexorable about the defensive spells as well. Hermione wished she could have some private minutes with Harry, but she knew it was impossible. How good it would feel to lie back in his arms and to just shut out the world for a few precious moments.

Sighing Hermione stuffed another pillow behind her back, the 'Atlantis' book on her lap. She remembered something Ron had said about the book yesterday, but she hadn't paid too much attention then. What had it been? Ah, yes...the song.

Ron had put away his quill sighing, " I swear my head is going to burst if I don't take a break." With that he had grabbed the book from the table and had opened it somewhere in the middle. After a few seconds he had muttered to himself, then directed his words at Hermione, "Hey, Mione, look I found notes. A song. Maybe we can enchant a harp or a flute to play it to us, huh? Ancient music. Cool."

_Hermione hat rolled her eyes at his words, taking back the book from him and shutting it with a audible thump. "Ron, this test is important. I'm trying to figure out this stuff. I suggest you do the same." With that she had put the book away and bent her head over her scroll again._

_Ok, let's have a look at this song then_ Hermione thought. She opened the book somewhere around the middle, searching for the song, Ron had described. Something strange happened as Hermione touched the pages. For a second the book in her lap seemed to hum and whisper. Confused she shook her head and decided it had been a kind of ... hallucination, for now the book was totally silent. So she turned some pages.

After searching a little bit longer, she eventually found what Ron had described. On the first glance it looked in fact like notes...a song, but something did not seem to fit. Not quite sure what had caused this impression, Hermione thoughtfully traced her fingers over the notes..... and then it happened. Without warning the notation lifted itself up from the paper, whirling around, curling itself into something new. A part of this figure was flashing bright blue, like it should _indicate_ something....

"What the...." Hermione cursed, stunned by the impression flowing in midair, a few inches above the book. This 'structure' looked somehow .... familiar. But at the same time so totally strange. It had something to do with the flashing part of it, but Hermione could not figure it out 'cause her brain refused to work properly. Her thoughts were whirling with amazement. _What is this? What did I do? Have I caused this? Why do I feel like I should know what it is? Where have I seen something like that before? Had Ron seen it too._

_No. _That was impossible. If something like _this_ had happened at the library she would have noticed it, no matter what....

"Ok, calm down. Think!" she whispered to herself. "You have seen something like this before." And then, with another close look at the structure in front of her, realization hit her.

It was DNA. Probably human DNA. But she could not be sure. It would never be possible to know what it was, and what the blue flashing lights were for. Did it indicate a mutation? Maybe this was the piece, which had made the people of Atlantis so special? Or was it a manipulation? That thought scared her. But then, who in Merlin's name would have the power to do such a thing?

This demands research she thought, suddenly very awake. 

If this had happened more often, Professor Trelawney would maybe have noticed the beginnings. But the simple facts were: it did not happen very often that she had any _real _visions. So it hit her quite unexpected.

She was sitting in the teachers lounge her only company was Professor Priscus who was reading a book about some scary looking creature Sybill wished she would never have to face. It began slowly, causing a slight dizziness and an unexpected warm feeling in her stomach. Then the room began to shift. She let out a surprised gasp what caused Professor Priscus to look up from his book.

Right in time to see her eyes roll back in her head. With a deep, trembling voice she began to speak: _"The book has been found. Touched by the heir. Late. Almost too late. The chosen one is not prepared. Running out of time. The awakening is near. No room for mistakes this time. Everything will be lost, if the chosen one holds back his soul. Need the heir. No other key can be found." _

With that she sank back in her chair and was sound asleep.

Professor Priscus, also known as Methos, was not amused. She had obviously been talking about the prophecy. Gods, he _knew_ that Octavius was about to free himself in a short period of time. It was impossible to bind him any longer. That's why the world needed this child. This special child... But how on earth could it happen that Mr. Potter would take part in this plan willingly? And who was that heir? Was it really Ms. Granger? And if it really was her, wouldn't that make things worse?

With a deep sigh he left the room, relieved that no-one else had been around to witness this little incident. Sybill would wake up soon, thinking she was fallen asleep and had been dreaming.

He closed the door behind himself carefully.

Professor Snape sat in his armchair in his rooms, right in front of the fire. He held a glass of whiskey though he hadn't tasted it yet. His thoughts kept wandering. Back to Potter. And those eyes. Had that Potter brat not caused enough damage until now?

Had Dumbledore's golden boy not gotten privileges others could only dream of? Was it not enough that every teacher and every student of this school thought of him as their saviour? The person who would rescue the wizarding world? The one who would defeat the Dark Lord? The boy who lived?

_More likely the boy who refused to die._ Snape thought sarcastically.

Could the Potter boy not at least stay out of _his _head?

Severus sighed. Yes, it was not fair. He knew it had not been fair to put such a burden onto the shoulders of a child. So much responsibility. So much pain. But what else could they do? They all had tried to keep it from him, without success. It seemed that this was his destiny. To be the one who had to face it. And he had taken everything. Everything life had thrown at him. He had endured it. Had accepted it. Had dealt with it.

Better that some had expected him to do.

But what else could he have done?

Snape could not help but feel that he did not really _know_ the boy – young man – whatever, he had taught over the last six years.

Maybe he was worth a closer look. Though he was a Gryffindor.

Careful not to be seen Hermione took the book to the place they had used for secrets before: Moaning Myrtles toilet. Her hand was shaking slightly in anticipation when she opened the door to the first cubicle and settled on the toilet-lid. The book was humming in her grip like a living being and whispered to her seductively when touched. On the first page it said, "Atlantis - a wizarding point of view, Methos 1011 A.D.".

The most beautiful painting was faintly moving in the middle of the page, showing something that looked like a huge city on a rocky island amongst the surging waves, guarded by a statue of Atlas.

On the spur of the moment Hermione touched the picture, but was disappointed when nothing happened. Her fingers lingering on the colourful depiction she only very reluctantly turned the page.

Hermione was disappointed once more when – again – nothing special happened. The first chapter was about Atlantis in general. She found herself faced with a somewhat interesting piece of history about the people of Atlantis. It was not exactly boring but much less than she had expected to find. It was so _normal. _Stuff about science, art and technology. Nothing that could not be somehow read in a Muggle book

Stretching a bit and trying to find a more comfortable position on the toilet-lid, Hermione decided to read one more chapter and then go back to the dormitory before someone would miss her.

She knew something was different the moment she turned the page to chapter two, which was supposed to tell something about the disappearance. Right before her eyes the letters began to rearrange themselves on the page. Telling a totally different story than seconds before.

Now the story said that Atlantis did, of course, not sink in any sea or some other stupid explanation the Muggles came up with. No, some powerful wizards had simply cast a concealing spell over it. One that would allow no-one, not even wizards or witches to see beyond. You had to know where it was and how to get in, to ever get access to it.

Stunned by what she had read Hermione put in a bookmark and closed the book. Her back hurt but she did not care. Her thoughts were whirling. If that was true and it was possible to hide a whole city, no island, then Atlantis might still be existing. A excited fluttering feeling began to build up in her tummy and she smiled as she thought that it felt a bit like when she kissed Harry. Then she murmured to herself, "Oh, I'm such an idiot. Why have I not thought of that? If Hogwarts can be enchanted to look like a ruin, why not let an island disappear?"

Then another thought occurred: maybe the question was why someone _would_ let it disappear. It seemed like everything was going fine. Why would one hide a place if not absolutely necessary? What had happened? And who had done it? It had to be a group of powerful wizards to do such a thing. And it was complicated. So, what had changed? What was the reason for all of this?

Nervously Hermione tired to figure what time it was. She longed to read the next chapter and maybe find out more about the reasons that had made them cover Atlantis. But on the other hand being late and getting detention would do no-one any good.

Sighing deeply she hid the book carefully under her robes and stood. Her back felt worse now from sitting in an uncomfortable position. She ignored the stinging pain and rushed to the door where she ran into Harry.

"'Mione!" Harry's face showed relief as he took her in his arms. "I was searching for you for the last half hour. What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Harry, what time is it? "Hermione wanted to know.

"We got less than ten minutes, then we need to got back." He answered, knowing why she had asked.

"Ok, do you remember the book I found in the library? The one about Atlantis?" As Harry nodded she took it out under her robes and passed it to him. Then something strange happened.

"Whoa!" Harry almost dropped the book Hermione had given to him. The moment he put his hands on it, it began to glow, hum, whisper and even to shiver. Like it waited to be opened. "Oh!" was all Hermione had to say. The book reacted to him even stronger than to her. "Mione?" Harry on the other hand looked like it was going to bite him.

"It's ok, ... I guess." She tried to assure him. "It reacted to me, too. Well, not _that _much, but it did. That's why I came here. I thought I should not experiment with it where I can be seen..." She had not finished her sentence when the book finally seemed to get impatient und opened itself at a certain page.

Well, that was unexpected.

"Severus, my boy, have a seat." Albus Dumbledore smiled patiently at Professor Severus Snape and handed him a cup of tea.

"What do you wish to talk about?" the headmaster asked after a few seconds. His eyes twinkled behind the half-moon glasses and Snape was almost sure, Albus knew exactly why he paid him this little visit. The old, manipulative wizard seemed to always know _everything_ that was going on.

"We need to talk about Mr. Potter." Severus told the headmaster. The facial expression of Professor Dumbledore gave nothing away about his thoughts. If he was surprised, he did not show it.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Severus? Something I need to know? Is he in danger?" the headmaster asked in a neutral tone.

"Only if he has managed to get himself in trouble within the last 15 minutes." Snape answered dryly. Then he sighed. "I do not know if anyone besides me has noticed, but Mr. Potter seems to have changed over the summer. "he said.

"Of course he has changed. Like most of the students change in one or another way during the summer holidays. What are you trying to tell me, Severus?" Dumbledore's question sounded way too innocent for Snape's taste. But he decided to humour the man and spit it out.

"It is differentthis time. He _looks_ different, he _acts_ different, he even....." he broke off, before he could be so stupid as to say what he was about to say. That Harry even _felt_ different in a weird sort of way. But the headmaster would not let him get away with that.

"He even _what_?" Dumbledore asked and those blue eyes sparkled even more.

"He even ...gets his potions right." Snape stated lamely for he could come up with nothing better.

The headmaster burst out in laughter. "And that makes you suspicious?" he gasped, shaking visibly and almost sending the tea-cup to the floor in process. "My boy, you should have more confidence in your teaching abilities."

"Headmaster, I am not joking. Mr. Potter has changed in a way he has not changed all the years before. This might be the doing of ...some charm or ..." Again he broke off, unable to put in words the weird feelings the Potter boy set free in him the last days. It was like he even began to _like _that annoying brat.

Professor Dumbledore smiled again and told the potions master: "Severus, what you sense is not the doing of a charm. It is really simple in fact: Harry is happy. I'd bet this were the first holidays he really enjoyed, since he had not to stay with his so called relatives." He did not reveal the fact that, if he had not misread the signs, Harry might as well be in love with Ms. Granger.

"Oh, yes, I bet to live with relatives that spoil and adore one, having a protected and carefree childhood – that is quite a hard fate." Snape spit out sarcastically.

"Is that what you believe, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, now in a serious tone. "Well, I guess, if being locked up in a cupboard or a tiny room all summer means protection and being treated as a servant or starved by getting one meal a day if you are lucky, means being spoiled, well then young Mr. Potter had a perfect childhood."

Snape's already pale skin whitened even more. "Did you just say _starve_?" he asked. Suddenly he felt sick.

Adam was on his way to his rooms and had passed the headmasters office, as he felt the Pre-Immortal buzz approach.

Snape.

Well, it had been quite unexpected for Methos to learn that the potions Professor would be one of their kind someday. There were not many immortal wizards. It seemed that when fate chose the people she granted either Magic _or _Immortality. Rarely enough it would happen that a person was born who would be both: a wizard or witch as well as immortal.

Methos had not liked the thought of taking on a student again, after over 600 years, but teaching a wizard to live an immortal life, was nothing he could leave to someone else. Especially not _this_ wizard.

The name Snape was an old, respected, pure-blooded family name. Well known in the wizarding world. It must have taken quite some hard work for Mr. Snape senior to hide that Severus was not his own child. To hide his 'shame'. Not being able to engender an heir. And having a child around that would remind him every single day, of what he had not been able to have of his own.

After realizing that, Methos had made some discrete investigations. Severus had not been treated kind. He had been a lonely kid, separated from others, who might someday guess what he was. Not a Snape.

When he had entered Hogwarts he had been sorted Slytherin, everyone expecting him to be like his father.

That part of the story always reminded Methos of Mr. Malfoy junior, a clever boy, but misled by his father. Fortunately, the young man had soon after Adam had started teaching, begun to search his company. They had talked about many things and Adam had listened carefully. Offering other ways and more than one point of view. It had turned out, that a little encouragement was all, the boy had needed.

But Severus Snape had not had the chances to change his mind. He had joined Voldemort's Death Eaters at a very young age, soon realizing that he had made a mistake. He knew he could not break off any more, so he had done the only thing he could do: become a spy. Now he was teaching potion lessons at Hogwarts.

The first time Methos had met that man; he had known that the sarcasm, the arrogance, his whole behaviour, was a mask. A well calculated and masterly performed _farce._ Methos had to admit that he was impressed. It had taken quite some time until he, Methos, had gained perfection in that 'completely unreadable' look Snape used to wear.

And even if Snape could not see himself as such, Methos was quite sure that the Potions master was one of the "good guys". Not only in this war but also in general.

The other man passed him, greeting him with a nod and a "Professor", before disappearing in direction of the dungeons. Methos smiled. They had found out, that they kind of liked each others company and the thought to have Severus as student one day was not so annoying any more.

And that he _would _have him as a student sooner or later was nothing he had doubts about. He was a Death Eater turned spy in the war against Voldemort, which was increasing in intensity every day. And one day Severus would lose his life to the Dark Lord or his men. Finally proving he was not one of them.

The book had opened only a few pages ahead the structure, Ron had thought a song. Hermione grabbed the humming and glowing book out of Harry's hands, heading for the cubicle once again. She blinked surprised for she had expected, that the moment Harry would totally let go of the book, the glowing would end, but it did not. The book stayed as it was: Glowing, humming and shivering and more alive than it had ever been.

Harry, who had followed her into the tiny cubicle, shot her a worried look. "Are you sure that this book is safe, Mione?" he asked.

"I don't think Professor Dumbledore would have it standing in the library if it could cause any damage to the students," she said. She did not tell him, that the book might not have reacted to the Professor the very same way it did now, for it had not reacted to Ron in any way. So she made a quick decision, "Harry, love, I know you are as curious as I am, but I need some more time with this book. Could you please go up to the dormitory and cover for me if someone should ask? _Please!_ I promise I will tell you everything I discover as soon as I am back."

Harry already knew that look upon her face. That glittering in her eyes, that excited flush that painted her cheeks. Gods, she was beautiful. He could not deny her anything, and she knew it. So he sighed and asked one last time: "You sure this is not dangerous?"

And she smiled thankful at him, kissed him softly and assured him: "I know what I do, love. Trust me." Then she pushed him towards the door, whispering a final, "Thank you." When she was alone again, Hermione took a closer look at the page the book had opened at. That specific page showed nothing but a painting of a person, holding a sword and getting hit by strange blue lightning. The picture moved, leaving the person's face in the shadow while the lightning kept hitting the body violently, who writhed in agony.

Hermione grabbed the book tightly. The mere sight of that scene sent shivers down her spine.

This looked incredibly painful. With shaking hands she touched it slightly, drawn by a strange feeling between curiosity and disgust.

The angle shifted. Now the parts that had been in the shadow were exposed to her searching eyes. She froze. The picture showed – without any doubts – Professor Priscus, her DADA teacher. And the blue lightning that hit him were streaming out of a decapitated body at his feet.

Hermione willed her suddenly fogged brain to think faster, fighting back the nausea he felt. This was impossible. This book was almost thousand years old. But nevertheless it showed someone who was still very alive and teaching at this school. Was there another philosopher's stone? Or was it a trick hiding one of Voldemort's spies? Who was Adam Priscus? This question was answered only seconds later, as the book once again became impatient and turned another page.

A soft gasp escaped Hermione's lips as she stared at the face of the man she knew as her DADA Professor, smiling up to her from the page. His voice sounded loud in the silent room, as he began to speak.

"Welcome to the world of Immortals, chosen ones! My name is Methos and I am the author of this book. This chapter is created to tell you everything about your duties that were not mentioned in the book earlier. You have learned about the prophecy already, so now let's have a closer look at the hows and whys of this all. It's my intention to guide you through this difficult situation as unharmed as possible. I know we expect a lot of you, but you will soon realize that this is about life or death and we cannot spare you. I'm really sorry for that."

Hermione sat there, stunned. She could not believe what she had heard a few seconds ago. A prophecy? Ok! That was nothing unusual in the wizarding world. But _Immortals? _

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath the young woman tried to calm down. She could not close this book and leave it alone. She was not sure if she would get the chance to ever hear him out if she did not do it now. It had been Harry who had caused this book to start all this and she was not going to let Harry near this book ever again. It was too dangerous.

She would read about that prophecy and listen to Prof.... Methos. And then she would decide what to do. Go and see Dumbledore or have a word with their teacher. But she would definitely _not _get Harry harmed in any way by this book or her so-called Professor. Not if she could prevent it.

Bracing herself for what was about to come, she settled the book in her lap comfortably and began to read.


	3. Conversations

Chapter 3: Conversations 

Severus Snape slammed the door shut behind him with a loud bang. Then he increased the strength of the silencing charm. He felt like yelling. How could that have happened? How had it been possible that he had misread the signs?

"He was supposed to be a spoiled brat!" he shouted, angrily striding through the room. "He never said a single word!" More striding. "He could have told someone. He could have asked for help!"

With a deep sigh, as though he had suddenly lost every ounce of energy, he sat down on his couch. "No, he could not have," he admitted in a low, defeated voice.

The headmaster had informed him that Harry knew he had to stay with his relatives for his own protection. Surely Harry had thought everything would turn out worse than before if one of the teachers came to speak to his Aunt and Uncle - and he had no other place to stay.

The headmaster had also told him, that he had known that the Dursley's were not treating Harry like their own child, but he had not suspected that it was this bad until last year. Silently cursing the circumstances, Snape had to admit it was entirely the staff's fault. After all, it was their responsibility to care for the student's health and well-being.

If McGonagall, as his Head of the House, had not been able to see the signs, then at least he should have noticed and intervened for the boy. He had had more than enough experience dealing with his own abused Slytherins'. Still he had always found an excuse for the injuries, because it was impossible to believe that James Potters son could be mistreated or abused. The boy who lived. The promised saviour of the wizarding world. Dumbledore's precious golden boy. Beaten, starved, abused. He had seen and he had summarily dismissed what was right before his eyes: The loss of weight – that brat must have had a lot of fun so he had surely forgotten to eat sometimes. The fading bruises – he must have fallen off his broom while playing Quidditch with his friends. The ever too big clothing that hung loosely around his slender frame – that boy had a bad taste in clothing. It had never occurred to him that Harry Potter was not the spoiled brat he believed him to be.

Severus thought of all the Death Eater's children who were treated like possessions. The Heirs. Engendered to keep up the bloodline, without a free will, and their parents did with them as they pleased. They were told what to believe, how to act, whom to marry. The signs of their parents 'care' was often all too visible. Contrary to what others believed to be known facts, he did care for his students. All of them. He was just not allowed to show it in public.

Rising again as the burning anger in his chest rose up to overwhelm him, he began to pace the room. "How dare they do that to their children?" he yelled into the empty room. "How dare they do this to Harry? He is a child - a child that was given into their care! He was not given to them to abuse!"

After pouring himself some whiskey Snape stood there in the middle of the room, his head bowed in frustration. He had made the boy's life even more miserable. Every time he had looked at him he had not seen him. He had only seen James. But it was not Harry's fault that he had the features of his father ... or his mother's eyes.

_But with that damn Gryffindor behaviour Harry has_ ...surprised by his own thoughts the potion masters head shot up. _Harry? When did I start to call that annoying brat by his given name?_

ooOoo

Hermione had made her decision. Though it was late and she should have been in her dormitory right now, this could not be delayed. She had to talk to the Professor about what she had read concerning the Immortals and about that Prophecy.

Blinking back the tears that were stinging in her eyes, she carefully made her way to the Professors office. She did not want to be seen.

'When the evil cannot be bound any longer, two witches, not pure by blood, will be given the honour of receiving the 'chosen ones'. These children, one male and one female, are to be protected at all costs, sacrifices are to be made. In the end, the 'chosen ones' will join each other in the year of the unicorn star, to engender the saviour. Only the saviour will have the abilities to defeat evil and protect the powers of light. This is how it is foretold.'

The words of the prophecy ghosting around in her head uninvited, she fought the burning feeling that was ripping through her chest. She was almost sure that Harry was one of the "chosen ones", even if the 'year of the unicorn star' had been about 80 years ago. Maybe something went wrong with the timeline or this was a second try. And that was why she had to speak to the Professor. He was the one who had the answers, even if it would hurt to hear them.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione knocked on the wooden door leading to her teacher's office. As she heard an "Enter!" from inside, she collected all the strength she possessed and stepped into the room.

ooOoo

"Miss Granger?" Adam looked surprised when the young witch entered his office. At this time of the day he had not expected it would be her.

"Professor Priscus, I need your help, please. I have discovered something and I think you are the one who can ... explain ... it to me."

Adam gave her a little smile. "Something that needs to be explained to _you?_ Rare enough, indeed. Well, let me see if I can be of some help. Take a seat." He waved his hand over to a chair in front of his desk and Hermione sat down.

Something about this man in front of her told her, he was alarmed. That was a good sign. It meant she had probably been right.

"So, Miss Granger, what is this all about?" he asked.

"I ... I found this book in the library.... "She began, pulling it out under her robe where she had hidden it. She put the book on the desk in front of her, showing it to the Professor. The smile returned to his face, but Hermione knew, that it was just a farce.

"Oh, the Muggle Fairytale Professor Trelawney got removed from the restricted section. I wondered how long it would take until you would find it."

"This is no fairytale." She replied softly and strengthened her grip on the book.

"What makes you think there is some truth in it, Miss Granger?" he asked in the same soothing voice you would use with a child. "If I remember correctly, the prophecy this book discusses should have been fulfilled almost 100 years ago. Nothing happened. What makes you think, _you _found out something that the best wizards and witches of Hogwarts and the Ministry could not find out? That sounds a little arrogant, even for a witch as intelligent as yourself."

Hermione looked at him. She had seen the terrified look that had washed over his face for a second. She decided it was time to show her cards. "I don't know what I did, but whatever it was, things changed. The book came _alive _in my hands. I don't think Professor Dumbledore or someone else would have removed this book out of the restricted area, if this had happened to them, too. But I think _you _knew this could happen to me, Professor. And _of course _your memories about this book are correct; you are the one who wrote it, aren't you _Methos_?"

ooOoo

Adam/Methos recovered from his shock rather quickly. His face turned to stone as he asked Hermione: "So, Ms. Granger, if what you found out was the truth, what would stop me from casting a memory spell on you?" He knew denying it would not help, not when it was Ms. Granger who had researched something. She never missed anything.

"Because you knew someone would find out about it. Because you know I won't tell anyone if you ask me to. Because you know I could help you with this." She touched the book again. And Methos knew she had indeed understood what this book was about. Which meant, that he had been right. She was a descendant of Marianna, the _first_ female part in this farce.

Marianna had – after not being able to fulfil the prophecy – married, and born four children. Obviously, Ms. Granger had some of the genomes of her ancestress. It was as she had described it, the book would come alive in the hands of the right person - in hers, Harry's, Ileanna's, or his own hands. Everyone else, who had not the right genomes, would see what they were supposed to see, a book about a Muggle Fairytale and a prophecy that never had been fulfilled.

"Who is it?" she asked and Adam didn't even try to pretend he would not know what she was talking about.

"I can't tell you that. You know that I can't." he answered softly. He would not tell her anything she had not yet discovered.

But then she amazed him by asking: "It is Harry, isn't it?" In her voice he could hear knowledge and resignation. She did not _really _need his acknowledgement because she _knew_ she was right. Her feelings had told her as much as her research.

Methos closed his eyes and bowed his head. This girl - young woman - was even more talented than he had thought. As he looked up and searched her eyes, he saw un-shed tears in her eyes. "How did you find out?" he asked eventually. He knew in the book there was nothing about a second try, a second couple, a second chance to rescue the world.

"I guessed that you would try again, someday later. This is too important to not try again. I saw Harry holding this book and it reacted the same way as it had reacted to my touch, though the reaction was much stronger. In Ron's hands it was just a book. All this fit together ... Harry's mother was a Muggle-born Witch. I knew he was possibly the male part of all this. What I don't understand is why this book reacts to me. I can't be the female part of this, so why does it react to _me_?

Methos sighed. She knew already most of the story and after all it was _her _loved one who would have to do this. Maybe she could _really _be of some help. Maybe she could convince Harry to do this _willingly._ She was a clever kid and Harry trusted her. Maybe this could be worked out without getting someone harmed too much. He knew this would be hard for both of them, but if Hermione could be convinced, that there was no other way, that they had tried everything to solve this problem _without _abusing people, maybe she could accept it as what it was – unpleasant, but necessary. Finally having made a decision, he stood and said, "Well Ms. Granger, as this is going to be a rather long explanation, we should go and find some place that is more comfortable, shouldn't we?"

ooOoo

Harry never made it back to the dormitory. Halfway there, he was stopped by a furious Potions Master. "Mr Potter!" the man snarled. "Follow me to my office. Certain things have come to my attention that need to be discussed."

Though his Professor's voice left no room for arguments, Harry had to try. If he left with Snape, no one would cover for Hermione. "But Professor Snape, it's almost curfew," he stated.

Snape, who had been heading to his office already, turned around robes billowing behind him. Bringing his face close to Harry's, he whispered, "as if you have ever cared about curfew, Potter." He was really angry. "_Now_, Mr. Potter! I don't have all night," he bellowed.

Sighing in defeat Harry followed his Potions Master back down to his dungeon office.

"Sit," Snape commanded, his voice curt. He glared at the youth before he began to pace back and forth in front of him. This needed to be sorted out, _now_.

Harry sat at the edge of the chair. He was nervous and fidgeted in his seat, he did not know what he had done to anger his teacher so much, but it was clear that Snape was highly agitated.

"Why did you not tell me that you were starved while in the care of your relatives'?" the Potions Master snapped, shooting another angered glance at his student.

Harry's head shot up at the question. How had he found out? "Wha--?"

"After all these years of me degrading you about your perfect life, I now find out that it was all a lie." The older wizard had stopped pacing, now looking down at Harry in a mix of fury and disbelief.

"As if you would care," Harry muttered.

At this, Snape whirled around, clearly fighting for control, but failing miserably. Facing away from his student, his hands slammed down on the table before him in a gesture of helpless anger. After taking a steadying breath, he turned around again, willing himself to calm down a bit. "Yes, Mr. Potter, I would care. I, unlike others, do not believe in fairy tales. If I had known the true life you lead at your so called relatives, I would have done something." His voice was low from carefully controlled rage.

"It doesn't matter," Harry stated.

It was true. In his opinion it did not matter at all. Not any more. He had learned his lines, accepted his fate, and had learned to deal with it a long time ago. Somehow he had known no one would come to help him. All they cared about was that he would defeat Voldemort for them, one day. Nothing else mattered.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts when his Professor asked, "What do you mean 'it doesn't matter'? Of course it matters! I do not take kindly to being led to believe one thing while the complete opposite is the actual fact." He looked at the young Gryffindor like he was a complete lunatic, which made Harry furious.

He yelled, "Nobody cares! All they would have had to do was look to see that there was something wrong, but no, Harry Potter the spoiled brat must have had the most perfect life! Why else would he wear hand me down clothes from his whale of a cousin, why else would he be covered in bruises and so far under weight when he returned to school each year? Tell me Professor did you even notice?"

Snape bowed his head and spoke, "Yes, I did, but I could not see past your face. The face of my nemesis. I made up my own reasons for your deplorable lack of proper clothing. Your weight I assumed was due to you spending too much time flaunting your fame to even bother to eat. Yes Mr. Potter I did see, but I too turned a blind eye." 

"I am not my father," Harry gritted his teeth. He could see it had cost his Professor a great deal to admit this.

"I know," Snape said, sighing heavily. To Harry's surprise he then sat down on the edge of his desk in an unfamiliar gesture. What surprised him even more, was that his Professor had hung his head and his voice was full of sorrow when he spoke again, "I know, I have done you wrong, sometimes because I had to do so, to keep up my mask, sometimes because I was too blind to see _you_ instead of your father. I would not wish the burden you have to carry onto the shoulders of _any_ child, Harry, but there is nothing I can do about it. You know I can't start treating you any differently in classes, it would blow my cover as spy, but I think I would like to get to know the real Harry Potter, maybe even the person you are behind _your_ mask. As far as I know the headmaster has planned a private tutoring of some sorts regarding you and me, maybe this is an opportunity for us to get to know each other

Harry sat there, dumbfounded and could not believe what was happening. Was that really the same man who had made his life a living hell; that ever-sarcastic bastard he used to know? Harry could not believe it. He watched in stunned silence as his Potions Master wrote something on a piece of parchment, handing it to him with the words, "You may leave now, Mr. Potter. Good Night."

The young Gryffindor got up, staring at the paper in his hands in disbelief. It said that he had been kept by his Potions Master past curfew and that he was to be allowed to return to his Dorm without questioning or punishment.

Heading back to the Gryffindor tower, Harry thought that this was one of the most surprising days of his whole life.

ooOoo

A/N: I want to thank **Allzugern**, who offered to be my beta, too. She did great work.

Please tell me what you think of this chapter. Like it? Hate it? Suggestions? Let me know! Thanks!


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